East Avalon High
by sapphire.octopus
Summary: When Gabriella moves to Albuquerque, she has no idea what to expect. Is history bound to repeat itself as it is apt to do, or is something different this time? Plot based on Avalon High. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Hey! Ro10tom8os here! I've got a rad case of writers block in regards to "Caught in the Act" and I read Meg Cabot's Avalon High today, and I was really inspired by it because the connections between it and High School Musical are actually really funny. Well not funny, but... Whatever, I had to indulge my writing taste buds. Any who. I hope you enjoy, and then maybe press that review button on the bottom? Thanks!

**Important: For the purpose of this story, Ryan is Troy's step brother, and has no relation to Sharpay!**

**Summary:** When Gabriella Montez moves to Albuquerque because of her mother's sabbatical, she has no idea what is in store for her. Who is Troy A. Bolton, and why does Gabi feel like she's known him for all eternity, even though she's definitely never met him before? Is history bound to repeat itself as it is apt to do, or is something different this time? An HSM fan fic based on the story of Avalon High.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own High School Musical, or Avalon High. OR Macalester College. Although I wish I did, because then I could see my friend who goes there whenever I want.

* * *

**East Avalon High**

**_Chapter 1_**

* * *

Bedroom; Annapolis, Md; 9:47 pm

For the record, I love my mother. She really is the best mother a girl could ask for. Our relationship is... incredible to say the least. Maybe that's while Lucy thinks that I'm so lucky. You know, besides her whole "creating a new image" thing. Which really doesn't work as well in the physical world as it does on paper.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Well not really, because I know what I'm talking about, and I'm the only one who is going to be reading this, but on the off chance someone comes and decides to read this, I'm going to elaborate. Because really, its not as though I have anything in here that I wouldn't want people to know. But I digress.

For starters, my aforementioned mother is a professor. Which might sound really cool, but in actuality is incredibly boring, because she doesn't study cool things like deep sea animals or global warming. No, she studies the Middle Ages. Apparently she's one of the foremost experts on Medieval folklore, which is really cool, and I'm totally proud of her, but makes her a little difficult to live with. Mostly because we have to move all the time, when she gets called all over the world to study some artifact or something. As such, I'm fluent in French, Spanish, and understand Latin, and archaic Gaelic more than a girl of my age should be able to. Not by choice mind you. French I learned out of necessity, during one of my mother's year long sabbaticals in France. I'll return to that in a bit. I learned Spanish from my parents, though mostly from my father. I grew up in a bilingual household and as such, I consider Spanish and English both to be my first language. I only learned Latin and Gaelic because, well... I love books, and my mother always had books full of translations lying around whatever house we lived in while she was studying. As such, I taught myself the later two.

Now might be a good time to mention the fact that I am a total nerd. Granted, you can't expect anything less considering who my mother is, and the fact that she raised me, but still... I've always been the smartest kid in my class, and when you are the new kid as much as I am, this tends to be a little problematic.

Which is why Lucy was calling me "lucky" Because, yet again, my mother and I had to move. And while I saw this as a royal pain in the butt, Lucy, who is one of my best friends, considered this to be an excellent opportunity for change.

The thing about being the daughter of a professor is that every seven years my mother is given time for a sabbatical. In other words, a year to renew, rejuvenate, and write and publish a book. For reference, professors love sabbaticals. Their children (generally) hate them.

I don't hate them that much, on account of the fact that we move so often anyway, that this is really not all that different. The one good thing is that this move is guaranteed to last a year, as opposed to a few months like usual.

Which Lucy thinks is emblematic of a new start. She says that moving away, but staying in one place for as long as I am, is a golden opportunity. Her reasoning is that I can start school being a totally different person, and no one will be like "Who are you trying to kid Gabriella, you're Geeky Gabi, and that's all you'll ever be."

And I'll admit, it totally appealed to me.

Especially, since my mother told me that our new house had a pool out back. I've never had a pool before, and the possibilities that abounded with such a token were quite enjoyable to entertain.

This was also another thing that Lucy could be jealous of. Which, I will admit, I took some sort of perverse pleasure out of.

But I still don't want to leave. Granted Annapolis, Maryland is not the most exciting place in the world, but its the only place I've really been able to call home. Because no matter where we move to, we always come back here. And I guess technically, home is where the heart is, or some other fluff like that, but our house here in Annapolis is a sanctuary of sorts.

Anyway, I knew I didn't have any choice in the matter, so I just smiled complacently as my mother babbled on about whatever story or artifact she was going to writing this latest book about.

The point is, I'm moving, yet again, and there's nothing I can do about it, so I might as well grin and bear it.

Love,

_GEM_

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Plane; The stratosphere; 7:33 am EST; 5:33 am MST

Have I ever mentioned to you how much I hate flying? I suppose I should be used to it by know, seeing as I have to do it a lot on account of moving all the time, but I swear to god, I will never get used to it,

Now I should mention, that being the little nerd that I am, I went and read everything I could about airplanes and aeronautics before my first place ride, (that is, the first place ride after I'd learn to read well enough to understand the books,) so I knew that we were relatively safe.

I'd even managed to memorize the safety pamphlet on account of how many times I'd read it, so I knew exactly what to do in any emergency, but this knowledge hasn't done much to qualm my nerves.

Seeing as it is ridiculously early for summer, and I had wake up even early to catch this stupid flight, I think I might sleep a little. Perhaps sleeping and some music will speed this flight up. Figuratively speaking of course. Because Boeing 747's such as this one can't top speeds of 260mph.

I am such a nerd.

Later!

_GEM_

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Plane; Some (different) place in the stratosphere; 9:17 am EST, 7:17 am MST

Okay, so the whole sleeping thing didn't quite work out the way I wanted it do. I am by no means a tall girl. At a measly 5'1", I never have trouble with leg room on airplanes, but this is ridiculous. Even a baby would be squished and uncomfortable in seats such as these. Needless to say, I didn't get nearly the amount of sleep that I had wanted.

Oh! I see flight attendants with soda. Hopefully breakfast too, because I am famished.

So apparently food is no longer given out on airplanes. Or at least, not on this carrier. So this can of orange juice and bag of pretzels are going to have to constitute my breakfast and hold me until we land in Dallas.

Can I just mention how annoying it is that there are never any direct flights any more? I guess its safer, and more fuel efficient, and therefore better for the environment, but its still hugely inconvenient. Especially if your flights are delayed. We got lucky, as our flight left on time, but seeing as we only have an hour lay over in Dallas, had we been even a little late we very well could have missed our flight to Albuquerque. So I'm going to count my blessings.

The view from the window is very beautiful. I've always been very partial to farm land. That might come from the fact that we spent some time living in St. Paul, Minnesota. (That one was not for a sabbatical, just a teaching opportunity at Macalester College.) While we didn't live on a farm, as St. Paul is pretty urban, it was still Minnesota, so we couldn't exactly avoid the agriculture. Anyway, I've always loved looking out of the window in airplanes. Which is odd, because its a good reminder of how high above the ground we are. I guess its the only time that I feel like I'm flying.

And okay, I know that this probably sounds really odd, but I often feel that part of me really loves flying. As though I knew how to do it–fly I mean–at some point in my life. Which is completely ludicrous. Which is why I've never bothered to share this tidbit with anyone.

Okay, I think I downed that juice too quickly because I really have to use to the restroom. I'll be back.

Love,

_GEM_

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Uncomfortable Chair; Gate 47 at Dallas Ft. Worth International Airport; 11:55 am EST, 10:55 am CST

Sorry about abruptly leaving before. When I came back from the bathroom (Which was quite an adventure, by the way) they were showing High School Musical 2 at no charge (unless you needed headphones) and since I had a pair, and I had nothing else to do, I decided to watch it.

I've never been that partial to that movie, but Zac Efron is hot. So whatever.

Anyway, the point is I never got around to writing anymore. But now the plane to Albuquerque is delayed, so we're stuck here in the gate.

Oh, my mom just said something about getting a real breakfast, so I'll write more later.

Love,

_GEM_

* * *

Different uncomfortable chair, Gate 47 Dallas Ft. Worth International Airport; 12:19 pm EST, 11:19 am CST

They say we can start boarding in about 5 minutes, thank god. Because at this point, all I want is to get to Albuquerque, inflate one of those pool rafts we bought back home and go for a nice long swim.

Well, its going to be more like a nice long float, but still.

Can I just say, the servings here are huge? Don't get me wrong, I love my bacon just as much as the next person, but they gave me enough bacon to serve my class back in Annapolis with more to spare.

Okay, so maybe thats a bit of an exaggeration, but not necessarily a gross one.

I good they're calling my boarding zone number. I think they're showing another movie on this flight so I don't think I'll be writing until I get into the new house in Albuquerque.

And yes it is the new house, not home.

Home is Annapolis, regardless of the amount of time spend there.

Or wherever the hell my heart is.

Love,

_GEM_

* * *

There it is, Chapter 1! I'm sorry that its kind of slow, I just need to set up Gabi's character. Please review, to let me know if I should continue with this story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **So I don't exactly know if people like this story, because only one person has reviewed it, but I'm going to post this chapter anyway, because I've already written it, and it seems a waste to not do anything with it. Oh, and the thing about music while running is totally true, and I really do listen to Kanye, Katy Perry, and Maroon 5 when I go running/to the gym. So fun tidbit for you. Please review! This chapter is dedicated to **theupdaters**, specifically **stripedpolkadots** for her absolutely wonderful review. Thank you! I always reply to my reviews, so please please review! Thanks!

**Summary: **When Gabriella Montez moves to Albuquerque because of her mother's sabbatical, she has no idea what is in store for her. Who is Troy A. Bolton, and why does Gabi feel like she's known him for all eternity, even though she's definitely never met him before? Is history bound to repeat itself as it is apt to do, or is something different this time? A Troyella, Zekepay, Chaylor, and Jelsi story. An HSM fan fic based on Avalon High.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**East Avalon High**

**_Chapter 2_**

Raft; Albuquerque, Nm; 4:23 pm

So we finally arrived in Albuquerque about a week ago. I've been so busy that I haven't had any time to write, unfortunately, so I guess I have a lot to catch up on. Even though I fully know I won't actually fill in all that much missing information. But its the thought that counts, right? Or does that only count for presents. Hm... I'll have to ponder that.

I'll admit, I'm quite fond of this house. My mom let me choice my room first, and I as soon as I walked into my room, I knew that it was the one for me. It 's painted this soft purple and has this amazing deck by a huge tree. I think technically it's the master bedroom, but I don't really care that much. And its not as though my mother needs a large room as she's going to be spending all of her time in her study. It even has a futon in it so she really doesn't have to leave. I actually find it quite comical, but nobody asked me, so whatever.

Anyway, one this I've discovered is that pools actually take a lot of care. You have to clean the filters every morning, because all kinds of things go into the water. And all of them die. It's actually really sad and kind of disgusting, but considering all the chemicals we have to put in the water so that we can swim in it and not like, get sick or anything, it isn't too surprising.

So every morning I go and clean out the filters, and remove what ever animals have become lodged in them, and then test the water to make sure everything is at safe levels.

And of course, being the nerd I am, I loved the chemistry behind the water testing. And I guess you only have to do it once a week, but I love it so much, I tend to do it a couple of times a day. I love the color the water gets whenever everything is perfectly balanced.

I swear, I am such a nerd.

But I have to say, even more than the pool, which was my mother's selling point on this house for me, I love my balcony even more.

And because of this I've developed a bit of a routine for myself. I'll record a typical day below.

9:00: Wake up

9:01: Get up, perform morning ablutions.

9:10: Go out and clean pool filters

9:22 Test pool water

9:25 Take shower, and get dressed (IE get ready to go swimming)

9:40: Grab book, this journal, and some form of nourishment

9:43: Check pool raft

9:44: Get in water.

9:45: Float on raft while reading, or doing any other matter of tranquil activity.

12:30 Get called in for lunch by mother

12:35 Get out pool

12:37 Eat lunch

1:00: Get back in pool

1:01: Float on raft while reading, or doing any other matter of tranquil activity.

5:30: Get called into get ready for dinner

6:00: Eat dinner

6:30 Go upstairs to bedroom

6:31 Go onto balcony and get comfortable on bench or chair.

6:32 Sit on chair while reading, or doing any other matter of tranquil activity.

9:15: Get snack

9:17: Sit on chair while reading, or doing any other matter of tranquil activity.

11:00 Get ready for bed

11:30 Get in bed

11:57: Go to sleep

Lovely routine, is it? I think so too. However, my mother does not seem to think so. She's gotten all in my face about "getting out and doing things." She even went so far as to offer to take me to the mall. I balked when she told me that one. As if my person was not enough to make me dorky enough, going to the mall with my mother would completely ruin my "golden opportunity."

Although, come to think of it, if I am going to take advantage of this "golden opportunity," then I really _ought _to get out, if not to meet people, at least to get my face out there, so that I'm not this totally random junior girl with no friends when school starts. And okay, its not as thought I'm going to make friends specifically, but at least I won't be a strange face. Such that people won't think I'm some freshman or something. Because not only would that be awkward, it would been really embarrassing, especially since it is totally unnecessary. So I guess I need to figure out something to do. I let you know.

Love,

GEM

* * *

Raft; Albuquerque, NM; 4:57 pm

I could get a job.

No, its too late in the summer.

Damn. Extra money would've been nice too...

Love,

GEM

* * *

Raft, Albuquerque, NM; 5:00 pm

I could go to the library...

...Yeah, and be marked as a nerd before school even starts.

Good plan, Gabriella.

Love,

GEM

* * *

Raft, Albuquerque, NM; 5:04 pm

Go to the mall, sans mother?

No, because then I'd be the friendless loser with too many clothes and an empty bank account.

The movies?

Right, because its so fun to go to the movies by yourself.

Why is this so hard?

Love,

GEM

* * *

Raft, Albuquerque, NM; 5:09 pm

I've got it!! I'll go running everyday. I haven't gone running since before we moved, and it will get be back in shape, and its a great way to spread my face around the neighborhood.

Did that sound as superficial to you as it did to me?

Damn, that's what I thought...

Anyway, the point is I need to start running again. Especially if I wanted to try out for the track team once school starts.

I think I'm going to go look up parks around here before dinner.

Wow, I'm breaking my routine. Things really must be changing...

Not.

Love,

GEM

* * *

Balcony; Albuquerque, NM; 5:44 pm

Well today was acutely interesting.

I found a park to go running in. It is absolutely gorgeous, and I am completely in love with it. It's in the richer area of town, so it is very fancy. There are tennis courts, basketball courts, a baseball diamond, a softball field, this amazing playground with three different sections, each with a different theme and play structures, not to mention the dog parks, and yes there are two because there is one for small dogs and one for large dogs. But what I love most about the park is that a trail runs through the park. Part of this trail runs through an arboretum, which will offer some shade for part of the run. This trail is exactly a mile long, which, I can already tell, is going to be very good for pacing. After printing directions from Map Quest, I went into my mother's office to let her know that I was leaving. I found her hunched over an old rusty sword, and rolled my eyes before telling her that I was borrowing the car and going for a run.

She looked up from the artifact in front of her, "You're going running with my car?" she asked me, completely bemused.

I rolled my eyes. "No, but there's this park about two miles away that has an really nice running path that I wanted to check out. I'll make sure that I'm home by 5:30 to get ready for dinner. I would say you could give me a call if you needed anything, but seeing as you won't let me get a cellphone..."

My mother was unfazed by the comment, and went back to investigate the decrepit piece of metal in front of her. "Have fun honey," she replied distantly, waving me off with her hand, as she focused her attention back on the sword. Sensing that I would not be getting anything out of her at that point I said goodbye, grabbed the car keys, and left for the park.

I plugged my iPod shuffle into the auxiliary dock to amp myself up for this run as I drove to the park. I always listen to music when I'm running unless its during meets when its not allowed. I need a specific type of music when I am running. Rap works well. As does hip hop and rock. As long as it's loud, with big beats and a strong bass, I'm down with it. (Did I seriously just write that?) Lately I've been listening to a lot of Kanye West while I run. It used to be more Eminem, but his lyrics started really bothering me, because he was (and is) such a misogynist, that I just couldn't deal with it anymore. I've also grown very fond of listening to Katy Perry and Maroon 5.

When I got to the park, I did a few stretches, attached my shuffle to my shorts, put in my headphones and started running. And it felt amazing. At first my muscles were a little tight , but as I kept on running they loosened up, and I could feel my blood pumping through my veins.

Now I know most people hate running, but I love it, mostly because the adrenaline that is released is so rejuvenating. Running has the same affect as going to a spa has for most other people. Perhaps the adrenaline is a drug to which I have become addicted. I don't really know, but the point is, I was running and I felt free for the first time since we'd moved here.

By the time I got to the wooded area of the path, I was coated in sweat, and the feel of the sweat cooling against my skin was refreshing. The woods were so think around the edge of the path that all the sounds of the park and the highway that was adjacent to it were silenced. The woods and bramble were so thick that I doubted you could get through them without a machete.

It was, I realized as I was running through it, a great place for various creepy people to hide out with out being worried about being found.

And I've seen too many bad movies to picture the scene perfectly.

The heroine is out for a morning jog. The camera pans her body, mostly to fulfill their "quota." (and you know what kind of quota I'm talking about, so I don't think I need to elaborate.)

The camera then scans the path, focusing momentarily on the innocent elderly women power walking with their dogs.

Our heroine runs past them, until she is alone in the woods.

Innocently, she keeps on running, completely oblivious until a man jumps out of the bushes and tackles her. Her screams go unheard, and thus the drama of the story begins.

Obviously, this freaked me out, so I started getting very weary and look out around me. There was a ravine below me, but I took little notice of it, too focused on look through the underbrush.

Calming myself down, I noted that my legs were strong enough that I could kick my assailant and cause a good amount of damage.

It was as I was reassuring myself of this fact that I saw him.

Love,

GEM

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Sorry for the cliffy! Who do you think it is? Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **So, I really don't think there is any interest in this story, so I didn't write the rest of it like I had originally planed. But then I went to Florida because my grandmother just died, and was inspired to write some more of it in my journal, so I typed it up, and here it is. I hope that I get some interest in it this time. Please read and review.

**Summary: **When Gabriella E. Montez moves to Albuquerque because of her mother's sabbatical, she has no idea what is in store for her. Who is Troy A. Bolton, and why does Gabi feel like she's known him for all eternity, even though she's definitely never met him before? Is history bound to repeat itself as it is apt to do, or is something different this time? Based on Meg Cabot's Avalon High.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

_**East Avalon High**_

_Chapter 3_

* * *

Balcony; Albuquerque, NM; 6:55 pm

Sorry about that, my mom called me down to dinner. But as I was saying, I was reassuring myself of my safety when I saw him. Or ay least, I thought I saw him. I mean, I was pretty sure that what I say wasn't a tree or bush or something, and it has a pretty human like form. I have no idea how he got there because the undergrowth was so thick, that it should have been impossible to get down there. Unless there was some sort of path that I missed. I decided to keep my eyes pealed for one on my way around. I didn't get a great look at him as I was running too quickly, but he didn't seem to be in any grave danger, so I kept on running, trying to put him out of my mind.

And I succeeded fairly well, if I do say so myself.

Especially because right around that moment, I left the woods, and was distracted by how bright everything was it. It took all of my focus to make sure I didn't run into anything as my eyes adjusted to the change in light.

And momentarily, the strange figure was put out of my mind.

Unfortunately, that didn't last.

Because soon after, every shadow, every play with the light that I saw looked like him. I could feel all my sense being hyper aware of everything that surrounded me. In many ways it was very off setting, and I didn't really know how deal with it.

I pumped my music louder.

It didn't help.

I ran faster.

My muscles loosened, as they had apparently tightened in fear.

Only this time, rather than feeling good, it hurt.

And as I grew closer to the arboretum, I could feel my heart race increase.

Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was genuinely curious, if not slightly worried for about him. I mean, what if he was dead? How horrible would that have been? Especially since I didn't immediately go to help him.

What if it was _my _fault he was dead?

Granted, due to my nerves I had forgotten that I had seen him sitting on a rock, and people don't tend to stay upright when they are dead, but that's beyond the point.

I slowed as I approached the area where I had spotted him, and peered through the undergrowth into the ravine…

…And saw nothing.

Just some bushes and rocks that were barely visible through the undergrowth.

I shook myself out of my reverie. It shouldn't have been that surprising that the ravine was deserted. Obviously, my mind invented this figure out of fear. Not that he was scary, mind you, but because I had already amped up my nerves.

No, this figure, which was obviously only a figment of my imagination, was simply the next step in the progression of my fear and nerves.

This declaration had both positive and negative repercussions. On one side, I was now no longer worried that I had neglected an injured or possibly dying human, bastardizing both myself and the human race by leaving him there to fend for himself, as it were.

Okay, that came out worse than I intended.

Anyway, the knowledge that I had not left him there was very comforting

However, once I got over my joy, I began to feel sorrow at the loss of a possible friend. For a few brief moments, I held hope that I might fond some form of comradary in that lone figure. It was, and is, a sign of just how distant and lonely I had become.

Don't get me wrong, I love my daily routine and all, but I do miss real social interactions.

And no, my mother's meal conversations do not count as social interactions.

She's more socially awkward that I am.

Not that that is saying much.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm not saying I was cool back in Annapolis, because I totally wasn't, but I wasn't a complete nerd either. I had a small group of friends, and we basically just stayed under the radar.

Which was totally and one hundred percent completely fine with me.

So, then, why was I so upset that this guy wasn't real?

I think, because in my heart, I knew what I had seen in the ravine was real…

Anyway, I finished up my run and was heading to my car when I saw him again.

He seemed to be in good health, so I breathed a sigh of relief. I took a moment to check him out, for the lack of a better term, and let me tell you, he is good looking. He has sandy brown hair that goes right down to his eyes. As I observed him through this follow tableaux, he kept trying to (nonchalantly, I might add) sweep it out of his face. It was adorable. (Hey, you have to let me be a little girly, right?) He was wearing jeans and a plain tee-shirt that fit him very snuggly. Obviously, he's the type that plays a lot of sports or works out a lot or something. I was impressed, and instantly attracted.

But I digress. After making sure that he wasn't in mortal peril, I took a look at his surroundings, and noticed that this time he wasn't alone.

He was with a guy and a girl. She had long blonde hair, a figure fit a model and clothes to match. She was also, I notices, very pink. This somehow, seemed very fitting. The other stranger was an African American yu who was very tall and lanky. He was wearing an East Avalon High varsity jacket, so I assumed that all three of them attended my future high school.

I also notice that the three of them didn't look entirely comfortable together. For whatever reason, there was tension in the air, and I didn't like it. It made _me _uncomfortable, and I wasn't even there.

No joke, it was that bad. I swear, they were emitting some sort of negative energy vibes.

But then she put her hand on his (my lone figure's) arm in what appeared to be a consoling gesture. It was simple and gentle, but had the desired affect. His previously furrowed brow smoothed, and some of the tension was lifted.

I was thankful.

It was at that moment that he caught my eye. His mouth quirked a bit into an almost smile. I might have blushed, though he gave no indication that he had noticed.

Once again, I was thankful.

I noticed something else. His eyes were a deep blue, both expressive and masked. They did, and still do intrigue me.

I smiled back.

And in that moment, everything changed.

Love,

GEM

* * *

Thank you for reading, please review!


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